


Sunshine

by Rueitae



Series: Rue's Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Weather, Captivity, F/M, Feelings Realization, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hostage Situations, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Lance is just singing a verse, Love Confessions, Pidge's sickness is irony, Pre-Relationship, Sick Character, Sickfic, Singing Lance (Voltron), and really good caretaker, but its not a songfic really, it ain't just allergies buddy, listen i'm so proud of the last line its the only reason i wanted to write this fic, sorta experimental fic in a way cause i really wanted to frame with the song, stranded due to weather, unintentional confession, you all like Lance singing yeah?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: You are my sunshine, my only sunshineYou make me happy when skies are grayYou'll never know dear, how much I love youPlease don't take my sunshine away-lyrics, You Are My Sunshine~~~~~Pidge is sick and Lance is a worried caretaker
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Rue's Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668730
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_haunted_sock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_haunted_sock/gifts).



> I've had the bones of this fic for a long while, so when Lee requested 'confined to bedrest' I knew this concept would finally see the light of day.
> 
> Heads up that the flashbacks are out of order.

_"Yeah, so Pidge is actually sick," Lance says frankly. He lifts a thermometer in the air, the same he'd just used to take her temperature. "Just a fever and cough right now, but it's probably gonna get worse before it gets better."_

_On the other side of the viewing monitor is a split screen of Allura and Queen Terisi, a look of unease on both their faces._

_"I can turn the Castle around right now," Allura offers resolutely. "We'll get her in a healing pod. Storm or not I cannot leave the two of you alone while Pidge is suffering."_

_"There are fever reducers in the infirmary of the cabin," the queen says, guilt plainly written all over her face. "I am terribly regretful that one of the Paladins is ill on behalf of our people."_

_“Thanks, Princess,” Lance says gratefully before turning to Queen Terisi and trying for an easy and diplomatic smile. "Don’t let it bother your Majesty, fevers are common enough for humans. As long as there's medicine Pidge'll be just fine. I'll take good care of her ‘til help gets here."_

_Allura raises her cupped hands in thanks. While the Winoynans were kind people, consistently portraying Voltron with strength was necessary to keep spirits high across the Coalition. While those close to the Paladins understood sickness was an inevitable part of life, keeping Voltron on a pedestal of invulnerability gave those on the front lines inspiration. Without the knowledge that Voltron has their back no matter what...well, they may not have the courage to rise in opposition to the Empire._

_Queen Terisi nods and Lance holds back a sigh of relief that her faith in Voltron hasn’t taken a hit, and is simply worried for Pidge and her health. "Be swift. Our meteorologists are saying the storm will come earlier this phoeb."_

_"I will be there shortly, tell Pidge to stay strong until then," Allura says, her authoritative voice tinged with concern for her ill friend, before cutting off her section of the conference._

_~~~~~~_

That had been three days ago. Allura has yet to arrive, the storm too intense for anyone to get in…or out.

Propping her up, Lance pushes a medicinal capsule into Pidge’s mouth, relieved when she swallows without prompting. Even in her state, her mind still registers that she’s ill and needs to take her medicine in order to get better. He lays her back down on the bed slowly and releases a big sigh.

 _“Sunshine,”_ Lance chokes as he sings softly _, “you are my sunshine_.”

Gentle strokes of his hand push auburn bangs from Pidge’s burning forehead. Her breath is heavy, but calm - for now; brow furrowed in pain as sweat accumulates all over her face. Her body is soaked the same, evident by the dampness of the thin blanket she rests under.

The fever hasn’t broken, but it hasn't gotten that much worse either. Pidge drifts in and out of consciousness and he’s been able to get her to eat and drink. Mostly, he whispers words of comfort, telling her any story or anecdote that pops into his head, for both her entertainment and his own sanity.

He feels more like a rain cloud, rather than the lyrics he sings. It hardly feels appropriate to be singing a children’s song at this moment, to his friend, his teammate, his… well, something they haven’t defined themselves as yet - hadn’t been able to yet. Her fever induced confession still lingers with him.

~~~~~

_Lance crosses the spacious living room to near the front of the cabin, taking a moment to snag a few of the plush pillows that adorn the couches. Pressing a silver button on the wood panelled wall, the adjacent door opens to a dark bedroom, shades pulled down over the single window. A few light coughs greet him._

_Pidge is curled up under dusty pink blankets, clutching the matching pillows. Her breathing is labored but her eyes open just enough to assure Lance that it's the fever taking its course. Steam rises from a pot on a stool near the head of the bed, its healing aromas filling the air._

_"Allura's coming to pick us up," he tells her. The way she barely acknowledges him and merely closes her eyes makes his heart squirm. She'd just been content in his arms hadn't she? An action that - he admits only now a couple varga after the fact - made him feel extraordinarily giddy. Pidge may be obviously sick, but strong, independant, brilliant Pidge_ needed _him._

_If he weren’t so terrified over her condition worsening past curing, he’d soak more in that feeling of self-importance._

_“So just hang in there, okay?” he pleads, sticking the recently acquired pillows on the bed between the multitude he’s already secured from around the cabin. Moving on, he fluffs the one under her head. “I got you some more. Is the steam helping?”_

_Pidge mumbles, aware he’s there at least. She shivers._

_“Okay, but you’re gonna hate all this extra heat later,” he warns her. He moves a second blanket over her shoulders, tucking it under her side to create, as Hunk likes to say, a Pidge-burrito._

_Unlike past burritos, Lance finds his hand captured. Pidge squeezes and his heart does a little flip flop. “Am I better yet?” she asks weakly._

_Lance snorts, needing to find some humor in this situation. “Not yet, Pidge,” he says fondly. “Keep sleeping and you'll be a pocketful of sunshine before you know it.”_

_He isn’t sure what possesses him to do it, other than the inexplicable desire he has to keep Pidge comfortable and safe, but he leans down and kisses her forehead. It’s just as his mother would do for him when he was sick._

_Pidge hums in contentment, a soft smile on her face as she squeezes his hand. “I love you too, Lance,” she says quietly, before settling further into the bed, ready to ease off into sleep. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”_

_The words that come from her mouth give Lance pause. Even taking her fever into consideration, she’s aware enough to know she’s sick. Her confession is clear despite being unintentional. Either she thought he confessed first, or she lives a fantasy in which they are already dating. Both carry the implication that she’s very much thought about this before._

_Lance is flattered and flustered. He also has a job to do._

_“Hang tight, Pidge. I’m gonna get you some of that medicine.”_

_~~~~~_

This song, among others, is what his mother sang to him when he was sick as a child. All he wants is for Pidge to know she’s cared for, so he sings. 

Lance has tried everything. She barely wears anything at this point and she still looks uncomfortably hot. He wrings a damp washcloth in a bowl full of water and places it on her head, another desperate attempt to keep her cool.

For the first time in his life, he’s glad he isn’t a genius. It’s a sad bit of irony that the only reason Pidge is sick and he is not, is because she has engineered the Olkari way. The tellia plant, the very flower they came to Winoynan to study in the first place, aggravates the very senses she uses to transform plants into weapons and to come up with genius solutions to the Coalition’s technical problems. 

At least he can care for her. That gives him motivation and a sense of duty that he has been craving. He just wishes it wasn’t like this; stuck in a remote laboratory facility on an alien planet and no way to get help.

He takes her hand, resting his elbows on the comfortable mattress of the large bed. The same one he’ll sleep in tonight to make sure Pidge has company. Maybe he’ll have better dreams tonight, of happier days before this mess all started. He hopes Pidge is already doing so, even though her face twists in discomfort.

This fever needs to break soon.

“ _You make me hap-py,_ ” he continues just as quietly. “ _when skies are grey_.”

~~~~~~

_Pidge sneezes, finally, after a solid ten seconds of her sinuses playing tricks on her, holding it back before allowing her to let loose not once, not twice, but five times._

_“Yowza, Pidge,” Lance gapes. “Bless you.”_

_She sniffles, looking up at him with puffy red eyes, one of them twitching in annoyance. “I just want to get inside,” she says in a nasally voice._

_“We are nearly to the groundsman’s cabin, Paladins!” The cheerful voice of their chauffeur, and guide on Winoynan, practically sings. Though the skies are cloudy, at least he and Lance are both in good spirits. He turns around ever so slightly towards them while keeping a sturdy hand on the reigns of the ostrich-like animals pulling the royal carriage - one that the Queen had insisted they use in thanks for destroying the Galra battlecruiser that had been blocking trade with their sister planet of Ramth, the one they share a binary star system with._

_“No worries, Qex!” Lance answers for the both of them, placing a hand on the soft golden cushion of a backrest that separates them from their driver. “Hang on, Pidge, comfort awaits.”_

_The ears of the Queen’s head attendant twitch as a grin grows on his face. “It seems the Oma can sense the oncoming storm. The cabin is in view already!”_

_Lance leans around Qex to get a better view of their home for the next few days. Winter storms on Winoynan could last for a week, so they’d be stuck. It suited their needs all the same, plenty of time to focus on their mission. Far from the rundown shack Lance had half expected, the exterior walls look as if they are made from the cotton ball like trees that are so prevalent in the area, greenish-brown trunks with the leaves of each tree a different vibrant color of its own. The cabin displays the variance with cotton candy pink tint to the windows and a bright blue door. The sides and back of the cabin are covered by the ground - it’s a rabbit hole with a modern door._

_Pidge sneezes at his side, drawing his attention back to her. The open carriage is not at all helping to manage her allergies. Despite her obvious misery, she snorts as if enjoying a secret delight. “It’s mostly underground, that’s why it’s called the_ grounds _man cabin.”_

_The pun is extraordinary. Lance even finds himself chuckling. Mostly though, it makes him really happy to see Pidge getting some enjoyment out of it - the first real smile he’s seen on her face since parking their Lions near the Palace._

_“It is the most secluded place on the entire planet,” Qex assures them. “Ideal for the study of the tellia plant.” He pulls back on the reins and the oma come to a halt. “This is as far as I can safely take you. My apologies that I cannot take you further.”_

_Lance takes the initiative to hop out of the carriage, watching his step a little more carefully than when he’d entered. The lightly framed vehicle shifts with the redistribution and then removal of his weight. Before him is the paved pathway that leads to the groundsman cabin, narrow only enough for walking. It cuts right through a field of the very plant he and Pidge (well, mainly Pidge) are here to study. The purple and white flower has taken up residence for miles upon miles, even above the roof of the cabin. At the head of the path is a metal hut, barely enough for a few people to fit into. Next to it are several Winoyan hazmat suits, all sanitarily encased in glass._

_He and Pidge will not need them. The flowers are not deadly to humans, unlike the natives._

_Like most plants, tellia has its medicinal uses, and excitingly as an antibiotic. The people of Winoyan have hardly been able to scratch the surface of its potential, not when it is so dangerous to them. One brush against their exposed skin is enough for the oil of tellia to act like an acid, creating a burn wound and an opportunity for the oil to get into their veins. Death comes within hours._

_Qex understandably can’t go with them all the way. This site is only for the bravest and most meticulous scientists._

_Pidge just wants the hazmat suit so she can stop sneezing._

_“You’ve been more than enough help,” Lance assures their escort. A chilly gust of wind bites through his jacket, making him shiver more than he’d like. Out of the corner of his eye he catches Pidge making her way out of the carriage. He winces first; she had to be freezing in her shorts, before extending a hand and a teasing grin. “Some assistance, m’lady?”_

_Hands on each side of the door to steady herself and one foot in midair, she stares at him for what feels like far too long, her gaze boring into him. It’s as if… she were trying to puzzle him out, like he often does of her._

_“I’m just teasing, Pidge,” he settles for. “Come on, you’re a sniffling mess right now and your head can’t feel much better. Take my hand.”_

_~~~~~_

Thunder strikes, jolting Lance to look up to the window across the bed from him. The snow falls with the same intensity as it had hours ago and the howling wind nearly drowns out his voice. 

He scoots his wooden stool closer, hoping his words are reaching her. With a kiss to the back of her hand, he squeezes tighter. She may not be able to respond, but he’s sure he can still hear and feel her, so he will do both. 

“ _You never know, de-dear, how much I lo-love you._ ”

~~~~~~

_This time she takes his hand without hesitation. She jumps down from the carriage and takes two shakey steps as her feet hit the soft ground before she leans heavily into him. The amount of support she needs surprises him and only thanks to quick reflexes is he able to grab her by the arms and keep her upright. For the first time, Lance finds himself really concerned about her health._

_“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Pidge? We’re gonna be here for at least three quintents. You can still go back to the Castle before the storm hits.” A snowflake falls on his nose. Twitching in agitation, Lance realizes that they’re likely too late already._

_“I’ll be fine once I’m inside,” she insists. Her grip on his arm is tighter than usual. “Allura is counting on us to get a lot of work done.”_

_Qex staps at the reigns and turns the oma back in the direction of the capitol. “The living facilities are fully stocked and the Palace is only a call away,” he tells them. “Please let me know if you need anything before the storm begins. I will not be able to drop off any supplies until it subsides.”_

_With one hand still gripped on him, Pidge reaches for the hazmat suit that will hopefully shield her from the pollen. Her fingers barely touch the glass before Lance catches her fall, just keeping her from hitting the dirt._

_He helplessly looks up to Qex with the most winning smile he can manage, a hint of apology that Pidge can’t react much. Another flake hits his cheek and a few more fill the air between the Paladins and the carriage. “I guess we’d better get going then. Tell Her Majesty thank you again for us.”_

_The manservant urges the oma into a steady trot to outrun the onset of the storm, leaving Lance with a very limp Pidge, who sneezes twice in succession._

_“Urgh,” she moans, dropping to her knees and leaning against his hunched over form._

_Lance heaves a heavy sigh, brows knit together in consternation. Of course he has to shoulder the load._

_"You owe me, Pidge. I hope you're happy," he tells her as he lifts her securely into his arms._

_To his surprise, she rolls into his chest, eyes closed in serenity, and smiles softly. "Yes," she replies to his rhetorical question._

_Heat rushes to his cheeks as she nuzzles her head into the crook of his neck, squirming with a content look upon her face. He gulps and puts one foot in front of the other, heading on down the path to the cabin. The entire short path, his heart beats in a strange, but familiar rhythm._

~~~~~

He still can hardly believe she likes him, in whatever way that ‘I love you, Lance,” meant. That even despite that cocky pilot attitude that she’d born witness to at the Galaxy Garrison - and even through the first part of their Paladin journey together, the attitude he’d, at the time, thought would win him hearts all around, had somehow ensnared the one person it hadn’t been aimed at. 

It was easy to say he loved her too though. She is his teammate and friend, forever bonded through Voltron. He loves her in both capacities and is anxious to figure out what loving her romantically feels like, as if it were the start to a new adventure. 

Lance scoots his chair forward. Blessedly, he can’t hear the two annoying sounds he expects thanks to an extra strong gust of wind - the scraping of wood on wood…and the clinking of the metal cuffs around his ankles. 

The door to the living room opens abruptly, a wave of warmth from the roaring fireplace wafting in. Not for the first time, Lance wishes to lay Pidge near the source of the heat for both their comforts but….

His heart skips a beat as the reason he can’t - their third _unwelcomed_ roommate - stands in the doorway.

~~~~~

_Lance walks out, closing the door behind him to give Pidge comfortable darkness for her desperately needed sleep. A stupid smile creeps up on his lips now that he’s past most of his embarassment. Pidge thinks he’s cute. Brainiac Pidge likes him; goofy, not a genius, sharpshooter him!_

_Weirdly, the door whooshes open again. Lance rolls his eyes, face still warm in delirium. “For a state of the art science facility, the doors could use some maintenance.” He taps the silver button that manages Pidge’s door._

_It opens._

_Through his euphoria, Lance realizes that it should have closed. If Pidge’s door hadn’t opened...what had?_

_“Blue Paladin, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.”_

_Lance’s stomach sinks and his eyes widen with terror at the voice. He doesn’t want to, but he turns around anyway, confirming his fear._

_Sub-commander Brallik - or would it be commander now since he and Pidge had killed the previous one? - stands in the threshold of the door next to the one that leads to Pidge’s room. He wears his full armor, and looks rested._

_Lance takes an instinctive step back. His very first reaction is to reach for his bayard, fingers twitching to reach into his jacket for it. Three thoughts jumble together in his head; the blaster in Brallik’s hands powering up, Pidge asleep and sick in her room, and the need to be patient. With snow falling heavy outside already, none of them can leave, even if Brallik makes hostages of both of them. Plenty of time for their friends to come up with a plan of rescue. He’s secure in the knowledge the Castle is coming for them - Brallik has no such reinforcement coming. So instead, he raises his hands in surrender, stepping between Brallik and Pidge’s door._

_He smiles and chuckles humorlessly. “Fancy seeing you again.”_

_The blaster powers down in a whir and Lance holds back his sigh of relief. Better a prisoner than dead and leaving Pidge alone with the brains of the ship they’d just taken down._

_Brallik regards him with a grin of his own, almost appreciative. “I would say the same to you, Paladin. You take my ship and I take your residence it seems. I’d expected to take a Winoynan hostage eventually, but a Paladin is much preferable.”_

_“Glad to help,” Lance says quickly. He takes a big gulp, gambling on his next action. Brallik isn’t like his murderous former commander - had clearly formulated his own escape when he realized Pidge had taken control of the battlecruiser. He can be reasoned with. “Look, my friend is in the room behind me. She’s sick, really sick, and the only reason I’m telling you this,” he emphasizes with as much of an intimidating glare as he can muster while surrendering, “is so I can keep an eye on her. Lock me up in there with her and let me treat her, I won’t fight you.”_

_Lance’s heart beats hard awaiting the response to his gambit._

_The Galra man hums in thought, an impressed gleam in his eye. “I appreciate the honesty,” he commends. “Unlike my predecessor, I am in the habit of rewarding those who know their place.”_

_It’s only half a second Lance can breathe easy before Brallik invasively sticks his claws in the inner part of his jacket. By the time he’s finished yelping, Brallik has his bayard._

_“But do not think that I will underestimate you again.”_

~~~~~

Brallik simply walks in and exchanges the bowl of water for a fresh one. Lance says nothing, all of what he’s needed to say he’s already spoken. He simply avoids eye contact, brows knit in anger and holds Pidge’s hand in frustration. 

“The gusts have become more infrequent,” Brallik says. “I’d give it another six varga before a ship can safely lift off. Your presence will be required when I request a shuttle from the Queen.”

If glaring was a weapon, the one Lance burns into Brallik surely would have killed the subcommander on the spot. “Pidge might not be better in six varga. You can’t move her like this.”

The dispassionate grin of Brallik sends a shiver down Lance’s spine. “I’m sure you’ll do all you can to make sure she doesn’t die in transit to Central Command.”

Lance growls in frustration, turning his attention back to Pidge, where it should be. She’ll have no medicine once they leave this place, no cool water, no comfort, maybe not even him to watch after her. If the fever hasn’t broken with medicine, he hates to think how perilous it will be for her without.

Brallik chuckles sharply. “Good answer, Paladin,” he mocks. 

Even after he leaves, Lance can’t find it within himself to relax. Pidge needs proper medical care and he knows she won’t get it in Zarkon’s custody. He knows the Castle is in orbit waiting for the first opportunity to get to them, but Allura has no idea Brallik has them hostage. If this gets any worse...

“Please,” he whispers, eyes knit shut, squeezing Pidge’s hands between his own. “Please don’t take Pidge away.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/). I'd love to hear what you thought down below in the comments!


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